


Ice In My Veins

by BornToFly02



Series: Downpour [12]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Forever Evil (Comics), Titans (TV 2018), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Hurt Dick Grayson, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Forever Evil (Comics), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Temporary Character Death, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:13:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29122470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BornToFly02/pseuds/BornToFly02
Summary: Death has followed Dick Grayson nearly all his life, he just never expected it to catch up. He got free, he's alive, it wasn't long, but it still...Even a temporary death has effects.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne
Series: Downpour [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1984505
Comments: 7
Kudos: 118





	Ice In My Veins

Dick stood in front of the mirror in his bathroom, staring down at the pill in his hand.

Pain medication. Nothing he hadn't taken before. He'd learned to swallow medication dry years ago, but he filled a glass with water, and placed it on the counter. He took several deep breaths. Then he took several more. The vigilante placed the pill on his tongue, took a drink of water, and promptly choked.

His heart sped up as if the increase in pace could keep it from stopping.

The small pill fell from his mouth to clatter on the tile as a sob was ripped from his throat.

A small knock had him stifling the sound as much as possible.

"Dat? Dat, are you in there?"

Dick wiped roughly at his tears, and cleared his throat.

"Ye- yeah, I'll be right out Johnny!"

"Okay..."

Johnny sounded uneasy, and Dick cursed himself for being so weak. He didn't die. He's fine.

_"I'm saving our lives..."_

So his heart stopped for a few minutes...

_"...by ending his."_

Dick inhaled sharply. Splashing cold water on his face brought him more into the moment. His ribs were killing him but that didn't matter. He didn't have time for this, for a breakdown. His son needed him, now was not the time to overreact.

When he opened the door Dick saw that Johnny had already climbed into the large bed. The boy was eight years old, same age Dick was when he lost his parents. He could never forgive himself if-

"Hey bud, couldn't get to sleep?"

"Had a nightmare."

"Want to stay with me tonight?"

Johnny nodded, and waited for Dick to lay down before burrowing into his father's side.

It hurt his ribs, but it was worth it.

As Dick closed his eyes, he tried to ignore how the ticking of his clock started to sound like the beeping of a timer.

* * *

Johnny laid there, eyes open, his breath carefully measured, and waited until he was sure his dat was asleep. Being raised in a family of heroes was amazing, but it also meant that he was well aware of what could happen out in the world.

His father was the first child hero, the first Robin. He always seemed so large. Dick Grayson was strong, optimistic, caring, the best father anyone could ask for. But when he stepped out of that washroom, Johnny could see that something was wrong, and that scared him.

The eight year old slipped off the bed, and grabbed his dat's cellphone from the nightstand. It was easy to slip away to the living room after that and he knew the password for the phone by heart.

First he tried to call Uncle Dami. Uncle Dami was a weird sort of uncle-brother to him. Uncle Dami may already be twelve years old but he usually spent more time with Johnny and Dat than Grandpa Bruce. Unfortunately, Uncle Dami didn't pick up, though he was probably on patrol.

Next he called Uncle Jason, who picked up almost immediately.

"What's up, Goldie?"

"Uncle Jason?"

"JP? What's wrong, where's Dat?"

"Umm, sleeping. I- I think something's wrong."

"Well he did get a little banged up on patrol last night, but you know he's had worse."

"Dat was crying," Johnny blurted, blue eyes darting towards the hall to make sure he wouldn't get caught.

Jason inhaled sharply from the other end.

"You saw him crying."

"No, but I heard him through the washroom door."

Johnny heard his uncle's motorcycle starting up through the phone.

"Alright, I can be there by morning. Do you think you'll be okay until then?"

"Y-yeah. Dat's asleep."

"Okay. Why don't you go join him, you should get some rest. Don't worry about your Dat, it'll all be okay."

"Kay, I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you then, JP. Sleep well."

The call ended, and Johnny stared at the phone for a moment. Uncle Jason would fix it. He'll know what to do.

The child climbed back onto the bed, curling into his father's warmth. Johnny let the comfort of having his Dat so close calm him down. He slowly drifted to sleep with a smile on his face.

* * *

_Ba-deep. Ba-deep. Ba-deep._

_Bruce worked furiously, fingers moving wires, cutting specific ones while carefully avoiding others as he attempted to disarm the bomb._

_Ba-deep. Ba-deep. Ba-deep._

_"No, the wires... every time I disconnect a relay it fixes itself."_

_Ba-deep. Ba-deep. Ba-deep._

_"Then there's only one way to disarm this bomb, Batman."_

_Ba-deep. Ba-deep. Ba-deep._

_Bruce was gone, Luthor in his place._

_Ba-deep. Ba-deepBa-deep._

_Bruce was yelling._

_Ba-deepBa-deepBa-deep._

_Selina was yelling_

_Ba-deepBa-deepBa-deep._

_"I'm making an executive decision, Catwoman."_

_Ba-deepBa-deep... Ba-deep..._

_"I'm saving our lives..."_

_Ba-deep... Ba-deep..._

_"...by ending his."_

_Ba-deep..._

_"I'm sorry, Mr.Grayson."_

* * *

Dick gasped awake, the beeping of his own faltering heart echoing in his ears.

"Dat?"

"C'mere," Dick mumbled, reaching out for his son.

Half delirious from his nightmare, his memory, the man clutched his son tightly to his chest.

"Dat, are you okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, of course I am. It was- it was just a dream."

"It's alright, Dat. I won't let anyone hurt you."

Dick stifled a sob. He was the protector, his son shouldn't have to comfort him. 

A knock at the door, the bedroom door, startled him.

"Long time no see, Goldie."

"Jason."

The second Robin looked at his older brother. He looked like shit.

"Damn, you're looking rough. How 'bout this, I'll get JP ready and off to school while you try and get some more sleep."

"Wha- Jay, no. I'm fine I can-"

"Nope. Sleep. I got this. Come on JP, what do you want for breakfast?"

Dick watched his son follow his little brother out of the room.

"Poptarts!"

"Poptarts?"

Dick sat up instantly.

"Jason, that's not a proper breakf-!"

"Go to sleep Dickie!"

With a sigh, he laid back. He closed his eyes and tried not to think of his death (or Catalina, or any other traumatic experience). When he next opened his eyes, several hours had passed. He was able to avoid any more nightmares, but he suspected he was just too exhausted to dream.

He got changed quickly and walked out to the kitchen. Jason was sitting at the table with one of his books.

"Morning, Dickhead. Made some food a couple hours ago, you might want to heat it up a bit before eating."

"Uh, I usually just have cereal."

"You need to have real food sometimes, so shut up, sit down, and eat your damn breakfast."

Dick did as ordered, and was about to take a bite, when he caught sight of the pills sitting innocently on the counter.

"Why are those there?"

Jason looked up at the older man, a calculating look in his eye.

"For your injuries, even Bruce takes pain meds. Eat up, take your meds, then we can talk."

The self-identified black sheep of the family watched Dick regulate his breathing.

"I- I already took some m-meds this morning."

"Bullshit."

"What?"

"Bull. Shit."

"I did!"

"No you didn't. Do you know how I know? Because I brought your pain meds here to the kitchen from your bathroom while you were out."

Jason rolled his eyes at the glare he earned from his brother.

"Why don't you want to take the meds?"

"I don't need them," Dick tried, hissing when Jason jabbed him in the ribs in retaliation.

"Mhmm."

"Why don't you just leave me alone? Everything is fine, I can handle it!"

"Oh, you can handle it?! Your son called me in the middle of the night, terrified, because his father was having a breakdown in the bathroom about twenty minutes earlier!"

Dick flinched, gripping the counter hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

Jason sighed, and took a moment to calm down.

"What the hell happened, Dickie? Is this about something that happened on patrol, or-"

"It- I- The Crime Syndicate," Dick choked out, eyes fixed on his plate.

Jason's jaw clenched slightly. There were a few options there, the torture, the unmasking, almost dying, but the question remained. Which one was it? He stayed silent in the hopes that his brother would continue.

"I was stuck in that- the bomb. It wasn't stopping, Bruce couldn't stop it. Luthor, he had a cardioplegia pill. It was the only way anyone was going to get out of there alive. I knew that. Luthor knew that."

Jason paled. He wanted to deny it, wanted to slap his brother upside the head and say 'no' because it couldn't be true. But he couldn't do it. All he could do was sit there and listen.

"I could hear Bruce, you know? He fought so hard. Sometimes I can- I can fill the pill in my throat. My mouth and nose were both blocked to make sure I'd swallow. I couldn't move, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't scream, I couldn't- I-"

Jason was off his seat in a heartbeat, catching the acrobat as he slipped off his chair.

"I was ready," Dick sobbed into Jason's chest. "I was ready, I knew I was done, but now I'm back, and Dami's back, but I- I-. How could I do that? How could I do that to Johnny? I was going to leave him alone!"

Jason just held tight to his brother as he fell apart. It was the pain of dying. The pain of coming back. The guilt over wishing he'd stayed dead. Jason could understand that feeling, he'd felt it for years. He wasn't suicidal, and neither was Dick. They'd just been at peace. In the last moments, both former-Robins had been resigned to their fate. 

"It'll be okay, Dick. I've got you, it's okay. I understand."

The older man melted into his first little brother's arms, letting the warmth seep into his bones, washing away the memories of ice in his veins.

**Author's Note:**

> In case it wasn't clear, this is what I meant when I mentioned imminent angst.
> 
> I'm not sure how well I did, but I finally got this done! Whoo!  
> I hope you guys enjoy, feel free to comment, I like hearing from people.


End file.
